Qui Vivra Verra
by Tokyo-Milk
Summary: Ib, a thirteen-year-old girl living in central London, has spent the last year visiting a particular café- the one with the beautiful garnet awning and the heavy glass door. There's a man working there who's caught her eye. What continues to draw her back to him? A relationship filled with twists and turns begins to form, the two learning from each other and growing together. AU.
1. First Glance

**Qui Vivra Verra**

Garry x Ib

AU

R15 (rating may rise in later chapters)

Tokyo-Milk

**AN**; This is my first fic in nearly a full year. Though, I have gotten some practice in from months of constant roleplaying and writing drabbles and the like! After my Shizaya obsession kind of fell through the floor, I didn't really know what to write about so I just stopped altogether. But now I have some inspiration for a few new pairings, as you can see! uwu''

I originally didn't intend to make this an AU, but after considering ways to work Mary's character into the story and finding nothing, I decided to start the story from scratch. And I've seen way too many fics covering the lost memories of Guertena's gallery returning and blah blah blah all that stuff. I haven't seen many AUs for Ib so I decided to give this a try. The story takes place in London, and the title, Qui Vivra Verra, means 'time will tell' in french, (literally: 'one who lives will see'). Things might seem a bit confusing at first, but everything is eventually explained.

One thing I want to touch on is the fandom's debating over Ib's real name. In this story, her name is Isabella, but she introduces herself as Ib. Personally, I prefer Eve, (I love that name... It's really beautiful), but because it pertains to the story, in this fic her name is Isabella. Her mother and teachers are the only people that call her by this name, however. If you'd like to imagine it differently, please feel free! And pronounce it however you like. Sorry if this disappoints anyone orz.

Aaaand one more thing. Ib is thirteen at the start of the story, but will age as it continues. By the end of the fic I'm thinking she will probably be fifteen. I mentioned above that the rating may rise. That would be for sexual content, yep. I haven't decided if I want to take that path or not at this point, but if I do choose to lead the story in that direction, I will let readers know in advance and will raise the rating. She's underage, I know that, but really, love knows no boundaries. It's not gonna be _that_ explicit if it happens though, pff. Don't get too excited, hohoho.

Well, I really hope you enjoy the story! I'm working very hard on it. I'd also like to say that I am looking for beta-readers and if you are interested, please send me a message! As I already stated, this is my first fic in a very long time so I hope it meets everyone's expectations. I pretty much ADORE hearing from my readers, so if you have anything to say at all I would love love love to hear it! ; v ; Constructive criticism is encouraged and welcome, as well as anything else you'd like to share. Feel free to ask questions too, (pertaining or not pertaining to the plot), and I'll do my best to answer them!

Thank you for taking the time to read the author's note. Please enjoy.

* * *

**I**

It wasn't as though she thought herself to be wrong. After all, the woman's argument was weak. She knew that if she'd taken the liberty of asking any number of strangers, none would have seen any problem with her taking the train out of the city to visit her best friend for a single weekend. Already an entire year had passed since the only person to whom she'd ever become close enough to consider a sister took off for the countryside with her family. London was too crowded. That's what her friend had passed on to her: apparently a good reason to leave, though it didn't seem to make much sense at all. She'd never realized that anyone would actually find such a busy city displeasing.

An adjustable girl, she got along well in most any situation. Her mother and father had switched from apartments to houses more times than she could count, and she'd always done fine settling into new communities. But with someone so close to her taking their leave, it felt as though her dear friend had stolen an important piece of her away when she departed. It had been difficult to attend school only to find an empty desk to her left side for days on end until it was flat out removed from the classroom.

A light sigh passed her lips. Why was it that, despite her mother being very much in the wrong, she still felt the heavy burden of guilt weighing down her chest?

_Mum knows best..._

But wasn't that unfair? She couldn't possibly comprehend why she'd been forbidden from visiting someone whom her mother knew she treasured so much.

Pulling herself away from her mind's many concerns, the young girl focused in on her location. Her home wasn't far; she'd only traveled a few blocks, but even as the urge to turn right around, run into her mother's arms and spew one apology after another grew stronger, she did all she could to move her legs forward instead. It wasn't fair at all, what her mother had said. This time, running back for forgiveness was not an option.

- x -

Some people regarded the idea of a thirteen-year-old wandering the city streets on her own with distaste, and in other cases, apparent worry. '_What kind of horrible parents leave a child unsupervised in such a dangerous place? Fools. Stupid parents, stupid kid. We should inform the police._' To her, it seemed ridiculous. Those strangers didn't actually care, so why would they bother voicing their opinion? It was as if everyone was searching for a chance to be righteous, to serve some sort of justice. For the sake of making themselves feel good, they would thoughtlessly call others out on what they saw to be 'mistakes'. They hadn't any right to decide who could wander the city and who could not. Sometimes, she found herself worrying that horrid quirks like that were simply one of many curses of adulthood, leaving all children doomed to fall into a future filled with monotone voices, chilly expressions and false concern; a world in black and white with all shades in between forgotten and erased.

Though, it had to be a choice, didn't it? Her father always used to remind her that life was like a game; make the correct choices and you advance to the next level. She quite liked that metaphor, even though she'd always been forbidden from playing those electronic games he'd probably been referencing. With that, reminding herself that her life was in her own hands was reassuring. If given the decision to become a boring adult versus an exciting one, she would simply pick the latter.

Standing up from a neon-blue plastic bench as the tram finally came to a gradual stop opposite her, she regarded the flood of passengers escaping through automatic doors with subtle interest, watching for those with piercings in strange places or colorful spiked hair. Those who were so obviously different from the rest of the crowd were both frightening and intriguing, as well as the most fun to observe. But this time, not one man, woman or child caught her attention as she shuffled herself onto the wired vehicle, carefully swiping her card in the machine before taking her seat at the side of a stern-looking business man. Her destination was only a five minute's walk from her school- a café which she often visited in the company of friends prior to each of them rushing off in hopes of making it home on time to avoid a harsh scolding. Of course, she'd come alone in times of distress; when her guinea pig passed away three months ago, when she'd been bullied or teased, and of course when her very best friend moved away, which was right around the time she'd first come across it. It would appear as though the little coffee shop was a place to relax and think about each problem with a clearing mind, but it was quite the opposite for her. A conveniently located distraction, at least during the school year as it was now summer break and her middle school was quite a distance from her home, but the biggest reason for her attachment to the place was not because of its comforting inner décor, nor its delicious treats or friendly staff. It was that man who often worked behind the counter, happily taking the orders of customers and passing them their chosen pastries with the utmost care. His smile always glowed. He was very different from the other adults she'd seen before.

She came here to watch him. It sounded strange, but there really wasn't much else to it. He was interesting and she was intrigued. Even when she first pushed open that heavy glass door and wandered through the room in search of an empty table, her eyes had caught his as though drawn to them like a magnet. Something about him was so very unique, but she could never quite place what it was that refused to allow her curious gaze any rest.

Tall, skinny, and well-suited for the uniform he wore, nothing stood out strongly at first besides his hair. Dyed, definitely- but such a strange look. She'd seen hair of practically every colour on the spectrum except for his: a pale, pale violet with a few darker streaks to create a contrast that seemed far too fitting considering how unusual and unnatural they appeared.

Once in a while, their eyes would meet and he would smile that same brightening smile he had on display for what seemed to be the majority of his work shift. Did his face not tire out after such a strenuous grinning session day in and day out? Was he really all that pleased with himself or was he some kind of magnificent actor simply playing his role behind a flawlessly constructed mask? There wasn't another way to find out than to put the effort forward and ask, but she had no intention of doing such a thing. It was better to leave some things a mystery, after all, and of all mysterious people she'd come across before, this man had been appropriately seated on the throne.

His name tag read 'Garry'. She'd only managed to figure this out recently, as he one day surprised her by visiting her table when she'd stopped by with a few classmates.

"Hi there." That genial smile never faded as he spoke. "What will you young ladies be ordering today?"

Her friends were quite satisfied with the man's politesse, one even trying to impress him with a sudden air of apparent maturity; sitting herself up straight, tucking a napkin into her blouse, and using a bizarre and sophisticated vocabulary that she probably wasn't nearly as confident in as she seemed.

The questions they asked him were returned with evasive answers before he'd hurry off to another table, always at the most convenient of times. His blue eyes glistening as he passed beneath the cheap-looking chandelier overhead, casting his gaze upward for only a moment before returning his attention to the other customers. He stared at it often, actually, leading the girl to believe that perhaps it held some kind of sentimental value to him or quite possibly, was far more special than it looked.

But she didn't know for sure. And she'd probably never find out. Her mother had reminded her time and time again not to talk to strangers, after all, though something within her had already decided to keep things as they were regardless of the rules she was meant to live by.

- x -

Shaking herself from a dazed state, the girl rose from her place following a light shoulder prodding from the man at her side. "Excuse me," he mumbled, as he stood up to go past her with a low sigh and then went down the tram steps. She was quite lucky to have chosen such a seat, as her stop was the very next one and chances were unlikely that someone would have woken her for any other reason.

Again, the vehicle came to a halt and passengers began to make their way forward, following one another in a sort of disorganized queue. Her feet were the first to hit pavement, and she was possibly on her way quicker than any other tram-rider. A wave of excitement washed over her at the thought of visiting that man again. _Garry._ As the café came into sight, she found herself pondering the oddness of that name. A strange spelling, wasn't it? Perhaps they'd made an error when they printed his name tag.


	2. Second Glance

**II**

Seated by the window in the café, she'd given herself a perfect view of the dark grey clouds rolling in overhead. It was bound to rain with the sky looking like that, and she began to grow nervous after considering her mother's probable reaction, not only to seeing her daughter come home after she'd ran out without permission, but seeing her drenched and dirty as well. Would it be more wise to stay where she was and wait the weather out? She certainly did not want to leave immediately since she'd only just arrived. With her tiny elbows on the wooden surface, the girl's chin rested in her palms as she swung her legs back and fourth beneath the table and considered her options. Even though a full year had passed since she'd first visited the café, her feet didn't yet touch the ground when seated in their chairs. It bothered her, but only because she'd been teased for her height at school, silly as that was.

"Good afternoon."

A bit of an odd noise escaped her lips as she moved her gaze toward the figure at her side. What were the chances that it would be him? His violet hair dangled awkwardly over his left eye, hiding it from view as he greeted her, beaming as always. Immediately the girl's attention traveled to the counter to find someone else standing there in his regular spot. Maybe he'd been switched positions for a day again.

"...Miss?"

She turned back to face him.

"Here's a menu, so I'll return in a few minutes—"

"Macaroons." She spoke in an instant. "Three, please."

"What flavours?"

The girl paused, wondering if she should pick her favourites this time or order some she had yet to try. After a bit of thought, she decided upon two old and one new. "Orange, currant and strawberry, please."

"Nothing to drink?"

She shook her head.

And with that, he and his glowing smile had hurried off, leaving her alone to stare at the few droplets of rain that had begun to tap rhythmically against the window glass.

Talking to him was hard.

Those days when he wandered the tables as a waiter were never pleasing. She'd been watching him for so long, it felt strange to interact as though they were complete strangers. Well, in a sense they were, but in another, she knew him well.

She sighed. Coming here might have been a bad idea after all. At least she was sure her mother would agree with that.

"Here are your macaroons," Garry chimed, placing the plate of colourful pastries in front of her. She thanked him politely and waited for him to rush off to the next table, although the place certainly wasn't busy enough for him to always be in such a hurry. However, this time he did not take his leave.

Wide eyes wandering upward to meet his, she had not expected to find his bright grin having disappeared, leaving a rather pensive expression to take hold of his visage in its place.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

The girl sat speechless in her seat. She'd been watching him for almost a year every time she visited his workplace, but she certainly couldn't tell him that without having to explain the reason why, which she wasn't quite sure how to word. Could it be that he'd noticed her gaze following him? The fact that he'd only brought it up now meant he hadn't realized until recently, didn't it?

"Maybe." An evasive answer was a good answer, much like the ones he'd always given her friends when they'd questioned him.

His smile was back, though it seemed to be more of a courtesy grin than his regular beaming one. Surprising her again, he took a seat opposite her. "My name's Garry. But you probably knew that," he chuckled, fiddling with the name tag pinned to his apron. "And you are?"

"Ib."

The confusion on his face wasn't the slightest bit subtle.

"It's a nickname," she added.

"I see."

The air between them grew silent, but not particularly discomforting. Outside, the pitter-patter of rain could be heard, and the window to her right was now difficult to clearly see out of.

_I'll wait for the storm to pass. Then I'll go home._

She hadn't considered what would happen if it lasted until dark.

"You order macaroons every time you come here. You must like them a lot." Garry's voice brought her back to the table, leaving Ib with a rather curious expression. How had he known that? Of all the times she'd stopped by in the last year, he'd only served her a total of maybe two or three. It was odd, but she didn't think to question it.

Nodding in response, she continued to stare him until he chose to break the recurring silence for a second time.

"I like them too. They're good aren't they?"

She nodded again.

Another pause, and he stood up from his chair. "Well, I have to get back to work. It was nice meeting you, Ib." He hurried off, grinning as he made his way to another customer who'd just taken their seat.

They were on a first name basis now. The thought made her smile wider than she had in a long while.

* * *

**AN**; Sorry this chapter is a bit short orz. I have more written, it's just that there was really no better place to cut the next chapter mark but here. So, look forward to a much longer one coming up next! ; v ;


	3. Third Glance

**III**

She was having difficulty pulling his face from her mind. That thoughtful expression, the curious one and the confused one- having been given the chance to see them made her feel lucky. Of course, she'd paid for her café visit upon return home with a huge scolding from her mother, but she decided that it had certainly been worth it. Shoving a spoonful of granola in her mouth, Ib swung her legs in her chair as a smile came to capture her visage. For the first time, she considered returning two days in a row.

"As punishment for yesterday, you'll be staying home for the remainder of the week." Her mother's sharp voice broke through her state of satisfaction. "Where did you go yesterday?"

"...Just wandered," she replied with a frown. It was only Tuesday, meaning she'd been grounded till the end of the coming Sunday. Six days was a long time to stay inside, especially after how happy the previous day had made her. Their first proper interaction was short but sweet, and she wanted to experience a longer one soon.

With a sigh, the woman placed a steaming cup of breakfast tea in front of her daughter and hurried out of the room, calling back as she departed. "Make sure to wash and put away your dishes. And dry them properly this time!"

That was her least favourite chore. Resisting the urge to groan, she slid off her seat and brought her bowl to the sink, scrubbing,rinsing and drying it, and placing it in the upper cabinet with the help of the nearest kitchen chair. The teacup, now with added milk and sugar, accompanied her upstairs as Ib returned to her room. Stuck at home for the next week... How could she possibly keep herself entertained, alone for that long?

Taking a seat at her desk, she pressed down on the power button of her computer monitor. Maybe she'd received a much-awaited reply by this time. It had been nearly four days, after all. The internet browser took her straight to her email, an elated grin emerging upon her face as three new messages rolled in, one much more valuable than either of the others.

_Dear Ib,_

_Mummy had me help her in the garden today. We planted black currents and gooseberries and raspberries and strawberries, as well as a bunch of flowers. We even planted red roses! I wanted the yellow ones, but Mummy said we could plant those next time. Living away from the city really is strange. I want to make new friends, but there aren't any people who live near us... School starts in ten days, 13 hours and 27 minutes! See, I'm already practicing for mathematics class! Daddy has to drive me every morning on his way to work since the school is so far away. Isn't that odd? I miss you lots!_

_Sincerely,_

_Mary_

She could hardly help hearing her friend's bouncy voice echo through her mind as she read through it, picturing her long blond hair swaying elegantly from side to side with every slight movement made and every warm word spoken. Ib was grateful to finally hear from her after a few days of no reply to her previous message, but even so, reading Mary's letters left a pain in her chest. It was much shorter than the ones she'd been sending shortly after the move, and now instead of writing her at least one time per day, replies seemed to come later each time, as if the friendship wasn't much of a priority to her anymore. Of course, they lived so far from one another that the bond between them could weaken with time, but what was one year in comparison to the ten years they'd spent together? Ib did not want to think of herself as possessive, but she could hardly help wondering if her friend still cared as much as she about their friendship.

Hurriedly typing up a reply, she made certain to make it twice as large as the one Mary had sent, telling her of the fight with her mother and the conversation with Garry, as well as an exciting book she'd read a couple days earlier about time travel. She was slow with the keyboard and made mistakes often, but always went back over her letters to be sure to send them without any stray errors; emails usually took Ib quite a bit of time.

- x -

The week passed by at a snail's pace, with little for her to do but sleep, daydream and draw. As long as her studies showed progress, her mother encouraged her artistic hobbies, and since summer vacation was not yet over, no concern was shown regarding the girl's constant sketching. She enjoyed working with fruit and flowers, but also loved to draw cartoons. Tiny kittens with comical expressions covered her paper, some playing a variety of instruments while others sunbathed at the beach, oversized sunglasses covering their eyes as they napped away the day. Unfortunately, that sort of art wasn't something her mother liked to see. Ib never left those pages in her sketchbook, tearing them out only to crumple and toss them into the bin beneath her desk. Keeping her hobby a secret was hard, as she regularly resisted the urge to run up to her mother and show her the progress she felt that she'd made, but the one time she'd done so, a scolding had followed. '_A waste of paper, and a waste of your talent,_' was what she'd said. It always fascinated Ib as to how adults could manage to weave an insult and a compliment into the same sentence.

As school was only four days or so away now, her mother had decided to shop for additional supplies. Though, it was hard for her to see the necessity in purchasing all new notebooks and pencils when the ones she had at home worked just fine, but both parties did not share the same view. School shopping was a yearly routine, whether the items bought were truly required or not.

The two of them wandered through the isles, Ib's mind elsewhere altogether as Garry's kind expression returned to her thoughts. Would she have to wait until the start of school to go back? It wasn't that long a wait, but she couldn't deny the thought of waiting even a few days put a bit of a pout to her lips. Their conversation, as brief as it had been, made her incredibly happy. To think that he'd taken some sort of interest in her brought a smile to her face. If they interacted a bit more, maybe they could become friends. The conclusion that she'd come to pleased her greatly. With Mary so far away, it would be smart to reach out a bit more to a few interesting people, Garry being at the top of her list.

"Isabella... Isabella...!"

Her mother's calls shook the girl from her daze, crimson-stained eyes rising to meet the other's irked expression.

"Stop daydreaming. I asked if you'd be needing a graphing calculator for mathematics this year."

In all honesty, Ib wasn't quite sure what that was. How was it any different from a regular calculator? She hesitated to ask and instead shook her head. If she didn't recognize its name, she probably wouldn't be needing it in her classes, right?

A huff of breath escaped the woman's lips as she motioned her daughter toward the checkout counter. Ib didn't even have to look over the amount of items filling the cart to know they'd bought too much, but again, she kept her mouth shut as the price they'd be paying continued to rise with every item swiped by the cashier. Going above a three-digit cost for school supplies was something she swore she'd never do for her daughter when she became a mother.

The rest of the evening had been spent writing her name and home phone number on the inside cover of every notebook, as well as placing exactly two of each writing instrument into a plain black pencil case. Her bag was officially packed three days before the start of her second year of middle school.

* * *

**AN**; I know I promised a much longer chapter but it didn't come out that much longer than the last orz... I saw that a few people took notice of the fic so thank you for reading ; v ;


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